The Farscape Horror Show!
by T'eyla Minh
Summary: A Rocky Horror Show parody using the characters of Farscape. grin This has been going around my head for a while now and I finally got around to it after seeing Revenging Angel. Please R&R! Updated! Chapter 8 here now!
1. Chapter One

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THE FARSCAPE HORROR SHOW

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SUMMARY: Just a little crossover fun! *manic grin* This has been fermenting at the back of my brain for a while, and it's about goddamn time I wrote it! If you know the plot of "The Rocky Horror Picture Show", then you'll know the plot of this. If not, let the surprise commence here. Besides, YOU try summing up RHPS without giggling your butt off…

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RATING: Damn. I'm saying PG-13 for content. The Rocky Horror fans will know why… It's a shippy-silly-fic!!

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DISCLAIMER: I do not own the characters and I hereby apologise profusely to Rockne and co for abusing them in this manner. The plot of Rocky Horror belongs to Richard O'Brien, and long may they both reign!

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AUTHOR'S NOTES: This demanded to be written really. I had the idea a while back and I've put it off long enough! And seriously, when you see who I cast as Frankie, how the frell could I resist! I'm trying to figure out where this is set. Let's say post season 3 after all the angst and relationship problems have been sorted… and I'm pretending Crais never went good. Just because it suits my purpose. *giggle* And I apologise for all the silly alien names and words. Not good at making words up. Sorry. Similarly not good at writing accents, as you can probably tell.

The first chapter doesn't really focus on the Rocky Horror side of things, but it does set the scene since I didn't have enough characters for Betty Munroe and Ralph Hapshatt… but it's still sorta silly and definitely shippy… Hehe.

Anyway, this is a sillyfic!! I intend no disrespect! Please don't flame me, but feel free to review.

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The Farscape Horror Show

© T'eyla Minh 2001

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CHAPTER ONE

"Well… that was certainly an… interesting experience," pondered Aeryn from the front of the prowler. She pulled it into a neat parabola as they flew back to Moya.

"Yeah," agreed Crichton. "I don't know, you go down for supplies, you come back engaged. Whatcha gonna do?"

"Well you needn't think it means anything," she said determinedly. "Just because some fahrbot law decides we have to get married doesn't necessarily mean it's true."

"I guess," he said, somewhat absently. He watched as she expertly manoeuvred the small craft, remembering what had happened on the planet they were moving away from.

~*~*~

They'd gone down to restock with what little means of payment they'd managed to scrape together. The planet seemed friendly, and apparently willing to haggle to even the lowest prices. The people were Sebacean, with an accent his translator microbes interpreted as vaguely Irish. Within a few arns, they'd already got more than enough to restock the ship, and were making their way back to the prowler.

Then, it had all gotten a little crazy. They passed some kind of religious building where a couple were getting married, and John was suddenly struck by how Earth-like the ceremony was. He pulled Aeryn aside to watch, explaining things. With some amusement, he noted that the guests even threw something very similar to rice over the couple. They were just about to walk away, when one of the guests leapt in front of them. If she hadn't been so laden with supplies, Aeryn probably would have drawn her pulse pistol on reflex, if the look on her face was any indication.

The strange little man, who, with his short stature, Irish-sounding accent, and garish green suit, reminded John inexplicably of a leprechaun, called over the religious leader who had been conducting the ceremony.

"Makrin!" he called. "Looks like we got us another pair of sheerots!"

Aeryn blushed. John looked confused.

"What's that?" he asked her. Before she could answer, however, Makrin came over and clapped his hands together gleefully.

"Wonderful!" he said, and then turned to them. "And when is t'e happy day?"

"We're not-" Aeryn began. The leprechaun interrupted.

"Ah, now t'at doesn't matter, Makrin." To them: "You're bot' welcome to come back here if ye so want. Makrin here is known for t'e best weddin' ceremony in t'is system."

The realisation suddenly dawned on John as he understood what 'sheerot' meant. "Wedding?! No, guys, there's some mistake, we're not-"

Makrin cut him off. They appeared to be a very argumentative people. "Now don't ye be tellin' me ye're not to be wedded. Why else would ye be carryin' all t'at food - and together, no less - on t'ese streets?"

"We're from a ship," said Aeryn, speaking loudly so as not to be interrupted again. "We're just here to restock our supplies. Now if you don't mind…" She made to move forwards again, indicating for John to follow.

Before they knew what was happening, they were both bustled into a small office, supplies and all. Makrin and the leprechaun looked at each other, then John and Aeryn, then each other again, and nodded, apparently satisfied.

"Would one of you mind explaining what the hell's goin' on?!" asked John, exasperated. He placed his bundle of food down on a nearby table, and picked up the smaller man by his collar. "You, leprechaun-boy. Start talking."

"Now t'ere's no need for t'at!" he said, frantically waving his arms and legs about, to no avail.

"I'll explain," said Makrin. John frowned and put the other man down, then feigned impatience. "Our people are empaths."

"You sense emotions?" asked Aeryn, clarifying.

"T'at's correct. And we're sensin' a lot of emotion between you two." The two of them looked at each other for the briefest of seconds before glaring back at Makrin. "And if ye're not sheerots, well t'en, ye should be."

"Wait a microt, said John. "You're saying that me and Aeryn are…" he let it linger, then laughed. "Dude, you're insane."

"Deny it all ye want, laddie, but t'ere's somethin' between ye, and it's stronger than anyt'ing I've encountered before now."

"Fine. So maybe there is." Surprisingly, that was Aeryn. "But that doesn't mean we're sheerots."

"I'm afraid," explained the leprechaun, "t'at around here, it does." He produced a small book and opened it to a page written in a language John couldn't understand. Aeryn read it, then groaned.

"Frell…"

"Who did we manage to piss off this time?"

"Nobody, but…" she stopped. Read it again. "Frell…"

"What?!"

"John… it's against the law here for two people to be seen carrying food together unless they're married, or they're going to be."

"You're kidding me."

"Unfortunately, I'm not."

"Lemme see that!" He took the book, peered at it, turned it upside down, and squinted. The markings looked completely unfamiliar. Aeryn snatched it off him again and gave it back to Makrin. "Okay. So what now?"

Makrin smiled a warm, toothy smile. "Well… t'ere is a little ceremony I can-"

"No," said Aeryn, firmly. "We're not-"

"Not t'at kind of ceremony. A different one. It'll just make ye sheerots while ye're here so ye won't get questioned again by t'e likes of us."

John grinned involuntarily, one of his latest dreams suddenly about to come very quickly true. He dropped it when he caught Aeryn's glare. She gestured for him to pick up his load of supplies again.

"Fine. But just make it quick."

~*~*~

John was partially pleased with the outcome, and partially very irritated. On the plus side, somehow, he'd ended up engaged to Aeryn. He was suddenly very glad Chiana or Jool hadn't come on the trip with him. Explaining that to Aeryn later wouldn't have been very fun. On the down side, he argued with himself, she didn't exactly seem ecstatic with the situation.

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But, Johnny-boy, his mind kept screaming, _you're engaged. To Aeryn. _He grinned again. The Prowler lurched and he nearly fell out of his seat. He was beginning to think she could sense when he was being idiotic. He frowned slightly and started to think again. Engaged. To Aeryn. This was a Good Thing. Except, he was incredibly irritated by the fact that he hadn't even had the chance to ask her, and it wasn't the dashingly romantic (or at least as romantic as one could get in the Uncharted Territories) scenario he'd envisaged.

He decided he'd better talk to her before he went crazy. "Aeryn?"

"Yes?" She didn't look at him, her attention focussed on looking where she was going.

"About this sheerot thing…" He sensed a slight shift in her mood, but was unable to tell in which direction. He continued, carefully. "I know we didn't exactly… plan for it. And I know you weren't exactly willing to go ahead with it either." There was something resembling a nod. "But… I'm not sure if you realise… uh… how important this is to me…"

There were a few microts of deathly silence, and then: "Why?"

"Well… um… see, I've been thinking about this particular… uh… arrangement, for a while, actually." He caught himself before he rambled on any further. "It's just… I hope you're not gonna just ignore it."

"Like I said, it doesn't mean anything, John. It was just a necessity, after all."

"Yeah, I know… but…" He was floundering, and picked his words carefully. Lately, Aeryn had a unique way of either leaving his head spinning euphorically, or his heart mangled beyond repair, and he was aiming for somewhere in the middle of the two. "Let's just pretend it wasn't a necessity, okay? Let's pretend there was no Makrin and no stupid laws, and it was just me and you. Right?"

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Another nod. "Right."

"Right. So… imagine if, in this pretend scenario, I'd actually asked you…" He let the comment linger before he expanded on it. "Would you have been more willing, under those circumstances?"

"I can't answer that, John. I'm not good at hypothetical scenarios."

"Fine, fair enough… let's forget the hypothesising for a while. I'm asking you. Now." He was beginning to wish he could see her reactions. There was another seemingly interminable pause.

Finally, she turned enough that he could see her face, proving that she could, in fact, pilot without looking. "I can't answer that either." This time, there was more regret to her tone, but nevertheless, John could feel the vice closing on his chest.

"Any reason… why?" he prompted.

"I just can't…" He sighed and she knew that wasn't going to be a good enough answer. "I don't know. It's not like I haven't thought about it, too… I suppose I wasn't expecting to go for supplies and come back…" She let the thought trail off, not trusting herself to stay in control if she said the 'e-word'. Sighing, more irritated than anything at the situation, she added: "Just forget about it, John. It was just a stupid ritual."

With that, she returned her attention to the small shape of Moya, approaching, presently a very misshapen, brown dot in the sky.

"Just a stupid ritual?" he asked, incredulous. "If you know how frelling long I-"

"I know. Really. I'm sorry, but I don't see why it's so important to you."

In exasperation, all other options now completely defunct, he resorted to the only one he had left. "Dammit, Aeryn! I love you, but sometimes, you-"

"What… the… frell…?" she said, interrupting him.

"What?"

She indicated Moya, up ahead, now closer… and Talyn, in clear view, hovering behind his mother like he'd always been there. "It's Talyn."

"Talyn means Crais…" said John, putting two and two together, "and today is not a good day to die…" He immediately activated his coms. "Pilot? What in the name of Hell is going on?!"

There was no answer. Talyn was flying very close to Moya, it appeared, and both ships were ominously still. All they could do now was wait, and investigate once they returned to the Leviathan…

Chapter Two gets here if I get 5 reviews… Seriously, tell me what you think. The real fun starts soon!


	2. Chapter Two

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ADDITIONAL A/N: Okay, so there's a lot of the RHPS script in this, but… not. That would be weird, after all… And some of the lines are in the wrong place, but that's the point. Right. Enjoy.

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CHAPTER TWO

Aeryn, ever cautious, circled the two Leviathans in the Prowler, trying to ascertain if either had sustained damage. Both appeared to be unharmed, and dead in space. However, Moya's myriad lights were still illuminated, and she was still humming softly, as was Talyn.

"Why the frell would Crais be here?" asked John. "I thought he'd given up chasing me."

"He had, but he still swore he was going to kill you should your paths cross."

"Yeah, and I bet he was just waiting for that day to come…"

They circled one more time, and John suddenly noticed something. He was very sure he saw D'Argo, peering intently out of a window and watching them, but when he looked back, he was gone. He shook his head, then looked towards the controls as something bleeped very, very badly.

"John, we're going to have to land. This thing's running very low on fuel."

"Of course it is…" he muttered. "Fair enough, let's get on board and see what's happening."

Aeryn nodded and brought the Prowler into the hangar. It landed with an audible thud that echoed in the stillness, and then the two of them stepped out, fully armed.

"Pilot?" whispered John, still receiving no response. "Yo, anyone there?" He shook his head, and joined Aeryn as she approached the doors that led to the first tier. She palmed the door control and looked mildly annoyed when it didn't open. John tried as well, with the same non-result.

After a microt's procrastination, John pounded on the doors, not really caring if Pilot told him off for it later, and started yelling. "Hey!! If there's anyone on board, will you let us the frell in?!"

"Oh, yes, Crichton, very productive," complained Aeryn. "I really don't think-"

At that point, the door very quietly started to open, a fraction of a metra, and revealed D'Argo on the other side. He stopped the door before it could open completely, and squared himself in the space it left. He appeared to be wearing something that resembled a black jacket over his usual attire, and he eyed them both suspiciously. It was almost as if he was opening the door to an unwanted salesman, if it weren't for the fact that D'Argo didn't know the meaning of the metaphor.

There was silence, and then he spoke. "Hello?"

"D'Arg. It's us." The Luxan looked from one to the other, suspiciously, but said nothing. "We're back. You remember, we went down for supplies?" Still no response. "Come on, man! This isn't funny!"

"You've arrived at a rather special time," he said. "The master's having one of his gatherings."

"Master?" asked Aeryn. Then, she addressed him calmly and deliberately, determined to get through to him. "D'Argo. Listen to me. I don't know what you're talking about, but I think it might have something to do with Crais. So just let us in so we can sort this out, all right?"

D'Argo blinked. Then, finally, he let the door open fully, and said: "I think maybe you'd better both… come in."

Aeryn nodded gratefully and walked through the door he was holding open, despite it being unnecessary. John followed her, slowly, something gnawing at the back of his brain that this was all far too familiar. D'Argo seemed to be limping from no discernible injury and was following behind them, looking apparently suspicious of their motives.

They reached the upper tiers and stopped just outside Command. D'Argo circled them and stood in front of the door.

"What now?" asked Aeryn, her short fuse very slowly getting shorter. D'Argo indicated the door behind him.

"I told you. The Master's having a party."

Aeryn rolled her eyes. "Oh, well how lucky for him. Look, just-"

She was cut off by Jool suddenly sliding (literally) along the corridor and colliding with D'Argo. She was swiftly followed by a DRD with a cleaning tool attached to the front of it.

"Luck?! Everybody's lucky! Him, me, you, we're ALL lucky!"

John's mouth fell open as the realisation began to dawn on him. _No way. No frelling way can this be happening… _He tapped Aeryn on the shoulder. "Um, Aeryn, I think I should tell you…"

"Not now, John." She sighed. "Jool, what are you talking about?"

Jool said nothing, but draped herself on D'Argo. They backed slowly towards the door, footsteps in sync, and stopped mere inches from the threshold, making no move to open it.

Aeryn sighed again, getting impatient. "Where is Crais?!"

They seemed to be oblivious to her request. John watched the scene unfolding before him with a combination of awe and sheer terror, as everything finally clicked into place.

"It's amazing," said D'Argo. "And time's running out. Insanity is taking its toll on us, so you have to listen, carefully."

"Won't take long," added Jool.

Aeryn frowned. "Well hurry the frell up, then, and tell me where Crais is!" she demanded, sounding almost desperate.

The Luxan palmed open the door, finally, as he said: "I've got stay in control…"

He stood aside, then, and John looked into Command, dreading what he might find. Apparently, his fears had been confirmed. Aeryn pushed in front of him and stopped dead in the doorway, aghast. All her years training as a Peacekeeper had not prepared her for this…

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Three more reviews gets you chapter three, when it's written…


	3. Chapter Three

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ADDITIONAL A/N: Many thanks to all the people who've reviewed so far… Dakki, you read my mind! Here's chapter three. I think you'll find, I know Rocky too well for my own good…

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CHAPTER THREE:

The scene that greeted the Human and the ex-Peacekeeper could have been described in a number of ways. Organised Chaos, for one. 'A room gone fahrbot' would have been another. Aeryn had no words for what she was presented with, and John could only see it as a Leviathan Barn Dance, no matter how much he tried to shift the image from his head.

The DRDs appeared to be line dancing. Or at the very least, were being trained to line dance by the same DRD he'd fixed when he came to Moya… and Chiana was sitting cross-legged on top of a control panel. Somehow, she'd acquired a pair of blue sparkly shoes and a gold top hat. John didn't want to know where from, but he wasn't remotely surprised to find her wearing them. That worried him.

D'Argo and Jool stayed in the doorway, watching their every move, then performed some bizarre kind of handshake, touching their fingertips together, then their palms, and finally, their elbows, in one fluid motion. John shuddered.

He decided to try and explain to Aeryn again, but she wasn't paying him any attention. She was watching the DRDs, as they rolled over the floor and into each other, with a sort of awe-filled horror. A lesser person would have screamed, but Aeryn strode purposefully over to Chiana, yanked her unceremoniously off the panel, and dragged her to stand with D'Argo and Jool. Chiana growled and started to move back, but was stopped by Aeryn grabbing her arm.

"Oh, no. You stand there," she said. Chiana pouted. "Now. One of you. Please, please, tell us what the frell is going on!"

There was no answer from any of them. John tried again. "Uh, Aeryn, honey, I think-"

"John, not now!"

Finally, Jool decided to talk, and John backed off, terrified should she say what he thought. The Interon disengaged herself from D'Argo and pirouetted around John and Aeryn, stopping on the other side of them, further into the room. She spoke, but the words made very little sense.

"Everything's so dream-like… Fantasy set me free and now I'm invisible to you, you can't see me, at all. But I can see you, everything… in another dimension."

D'Argo joined in the nonsensical ramblings. "Don't forget the mind-flip."

"Oh yes, can't forget that… We're all slipping, with time."

"Nothing'll ever be the same again."

"You look spaced-out… it must be this weird sensation I've been feeling."

"It's rather like being sedated," noted D'Argo, finally.

"Oh, God…" muttered John, looking vaguely nauseous, then noticed that the DRDs had started moving in random, or, to the close observer, not so random, patterns on the floor.

"Right," said Aeryn, adapting her "human nonsense" expression to encompass the other three species in front of her. "Chiana? Do you have anything to say? Preferably something sane, but knowing you, it probably won't be."

Chiana nodded, and grinned at John; he was suddenly struck with a memory - Chiana, as an astronaut groupie… Another piece of the puzzle clicked painfully into place, adding to his consternation. He tried to block out the words Chiana was drawling, but was also intensely curious. She made far more sense compared to Jool and D'Argo, but nevertheless, her speech was strange.

"Well, it's weird. I was wandering down one of Moya's corridors earlier, just thinkin'. Then this guy came up to me and winked at me. It really shocked me at first, I was pretty shaken up, I mean, he came out of nowhere! But he had the most amazing ship, and his eyes had a little bit of hezmana in them, you know? He was just staring at me, he didn't even say anything… and I felt really… strange. Time stood still for a moment, and then it didn't even seem to matter any more…" She giggled, and danced off, literally, around Command, her recently acquired shoes tapping out a rhythm.

Aeryn sighed for about the fifteenth time that arn, and turned to John. "Right, that was… immensely unhelpful. I think we should go and collect those supplies and leave these three to sleep off… whatever it is they drank, or ate, or… swallowed."

"Hate to tell you this, but I have a feeling we won't get very far."

"Why?"

He indicated the door, where their three crewmates had collected again to form a Luxan-Interon-Nebari shield.

"This is insane…" she muttered.

John took her out of their earshot. "Listen, you'll think I'm crazy, but I know what's going on."

"You've seen this before?"

"Seen this? I've frelling done this before… Me and DK, once, we… never mind. Just trust me on this. I can tell what's going to happen next."

"I'm not going to ask how you know…"

It was then that they heard the footsteps. Heavy, pounding footsteps, approaching very deliberately in the direction of Command.

"Now what?" asked Aeryn, this time looking to John for an answer. He had gone decidedly pale, and gulped.

"If it is what I think it is… then you may not want to find out…"

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Again, three more reviews and you get Chapter Four. I hope you're having as much fun as I am…


	4. Chapter Four

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ADDITIONAL A/N: I wasn't expecting such a huge rush on this! Sorry for the delay, I've been ill, and it's Christmas, but I'm back with Chapter Four! Enjoy! 

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CHAPTER FOUR

"Crichton?"

"yeah?"

"If you know what's going on, just frelling tell me!"

They both kept their gazes fixed to the door, waiting for whoever was approaching to emerge. "It would take far too long. Just trust me. I'll do… something."

Aeryn was just about to yell at him some more when D'Argo, Chiana and Jool separated to let the door open. Instinctively, John positioned himself closer to Aeryn as they both drew their weapons…

Crais appeared in all his glory. John was, at first, utterly shell-shocked, and then, he began to snigger, simply because the present sight of his sworn enemy was so very amusing. Aeryn's jaw dropped as she tried to form a coherent thought and consistently failed to come up with anything. Finally, she managed to say: "What… in hezmana… are you doing??"

"Lookin' good, Crais-y Boy!" said John, unhelpfully.

The former Peacekeeper Captain said nothing, merely eyed them evilly, as Aeryn took in his entire appearance. She prayed to any diety that would listen that it was all some insane dream.

His usually neat braid was nowhere to be seen, and black hair framed his face… his very heavily made up face. He was dressed, on first glance, in his trench coat. If, however, one dared to look further, there was much more to it. Or, in fact, much less.

He was clad in a pair of rather ragged stockings, something that resembled one of Chiana's more daring outfits, a very fetching pearl-like choker, and his combat boots and utility belt.

Aeryn closed her eyes in the hope it would go away; to her horror when she reopened them, Crais was walking towards them. John, thankfully, stopped sniggering, and instead let out a wolf-whistle of approval.

"Woo! Where'd you get the outfit? No, wait, don't tell me. You stole it off Chiana." He cocked his head to the side and regarded him again. "No… Aeryn." That earned him a fully-expected punch on the arm. _I love you, too,_ he thought, and started sniggering again.

Crais raised a highly dubious eyebrow. Eventually, he deigned to speak.

"Greetings, Crichton, Officer Sun. I see you're already acquainted with my manservant, Ka D'Argo." He indicated the Luxan, who scowled. "He's rather disappointed. He thought you might have been Luxans when you approached."

John, still sniggering, had now started humming something to himself, and Aeryn assumed an air of complete disbelief.

"I suppose," Crais continued, "you're wondering about this," indicating himself, "but you can't let outward appearances deceive you. I may look… strange, but I assure you, this is quite practical."

"Skip the chorus, Not-So-Sweet T," interrupted John. "Just tell us what's goin' on."

Crais blatantly ignored him. "Your Prowler is out of fuel, correct? Well, no need to worry, we'll sort that for you."

"Listen, Crais," said Aeryn, attempting to be a voice of logic, and echoing John. "Just tell us what is going on!"

He frowned. "I've been making something. It's in the lab, if you'd care to see."

John smiled idiotically. "Oh, yeah, we're just tingling with the anticipation." The urge to pause on the last word was almost uncontrollable, but he fought it. Aeryn had, by this point, decided everyone was completely mad, and was determined to take her with them.

Apparently satisfied, Crais turned and left. Immediately, the other three swarmed on John and Aeryn. He moved himself out of their way and bodily directed Aeryn ahead of him. "S'okay! We're going. Just lead the way."

The three conferred, then nodded as one being. D'Argo headed the group, and Chiana and Jool brought up the rear, with John and Aeryn in the middle. Jool prodded them into action. "Come on. Crais doesn't like to wait. Shift it!"

For a few microts, they walked in silence. Then, Chiana spoke.

"D'Argo, slow down. It's too nice a view to rush." John got the distinct impression she wasn't talking about Moya's interior, and moved a little closer to Aeryn. "You know," she added, "you're lucky to be invited to Crais' lab. Some people'd give anything for the chance."

John could resist no longer. "People like you, maybe, Chi?"

She giggled. "I've seen it!"

They walked a little further in silence, while Aeryn thought. Somewhat worriedly, she asked: "Chiana, did you… uh… you didn't… frell Crais, did you?"

D'Argo answered for her. "I've never known him to have that desire, and I don't think he ever will… and especially not with Chiana. We're simply the servants."

Aeryn noted that John couldn't stop grinning, and any microt now, she was going to wipe the moronic smilt right off his face. Then, she realised they were heading towards Zhaan's apothecary. _The lab…_ she pondered. _So that's what he was on about…_

"John," she asked quietly, "what should I be expecting to happen?"

"Oh, so now you wanna listen to me?" he teased. She frowned, his imminent demise implied. "That'd be telling, Sunshine. I think I'll let you just go along for the ride." With that, he draped an arm around her shoulders, grinned even wider, and said no more.

Aeryn resisted the urge to remove the arm (literally, if necessary) and kept walking. She couldn't shift the nagging worry that the strangeness was far from over, as Zhaan's apothecary approached…

Okay… lots more reviews gets you Chapter 5! And a prize (or at least, a mention next time) to the person who guesses who I 'cast' as Rocky!! *evil smile*


	5. Chapter Five

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ADDITIONAL A/N: This is a short chapter just so you know I haven't forgotten about you. I'm writing Chapter 6 as I speak!! (Well, obviously not, I don't have that many hands, but… you get the idea.) Anyway, sorry to leave you all in suspense again… all will be revealed in Chapter 6, I promise! (Oh, and I missed out "The Charles Atlas Song" because it was far too difficult to get in.)

(PS: I've been keeping score of who's guessed my character crossovers correctly, and this time, there's FIVE BONUS POINTS to anybody who spots the [blindingly obvious] in-joke at the beginning. The winner, to be announced at the end, wins… um… something. A cameo in my next fic, perhaps. I'll think of something. And just for the record, at the moment, Dakki's leading 2 points to 1 against Midnight Intruder, Pippa, Aspere, Princess Lily, and PKBitchGirl. Gooooo Dakki!)

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CHAPTER 5

The party of five continued down the corridor, with John and Aeryn being occasionally prodded or scowled at. John stole a glance across at Aeryn, having removed the arm from her shoulders. She was handling the situation remarkably well, he thought. In fact, she was handling it much better than him, and he knew what was going on. She wore an expression of consternation, trying to figure out what was going on and failing at every turn. He was going to explain it to her, but decided that would probably confuse her even more; besides, it would be fun to watch how this unfolded.

It was then that he noticed the crate of fellip nectar bottles in D'Argo's hand, and the half-empty one he was swigging from, and his thoughts returned to the present situation.

The day had started out remarkably well, especially with the whole being-engaged-to-Aeryn thing. But good days in the Uncharted Territories had a tendency to go very, very wrong within microts of going right, and this day was no exception. However, not even John could have prepared for this. He was partly still terrified, but at the same time, intensely curious to see how the whole thing would eventually pan out. At least, for once, he was at an advantage and would be able to get them all out of the situation relatively unscathed.

Finally, they reached the doors and D'Argo came to an abrupt halt, palming open the door. He entered, and Jool and Chiana shoved their victims through so the door could close. They both surveyed the room. On one of the beds, something lay, covered completely by a gold blanket. It looked suspiciously red in the low lights of the room. A row of DRDs lined the back wall, apparently watching the action. Crais stood in front of the bed, wearing a white smock, protective gloves, and a very wide smile.

D'Argo approached and handed him a bottle of the fellip nectar, placing the others on the floor, and then moved to behind the bed. Crais clasped his hands together and faced John and Aeryn.

"Joolushka." Jool stepped out from behind Aeryn and stood next to her. "Chiana." Chiana did the same, standing by John. "Go and assist Ka D'Argo." The two nodded and sauntered over to the bed, while Crais returned to the job in hand. "I'll entertain these two."

John really, really wanted to say "Hi, I'm John Crichton and this is my fiancée Aeryn Sun," but he didn't. But damn, he really, really wanted to. Instead, he said: "Okay, we're here, now show us what you brewed up and get the hell off Moya."

Crais, apparently annoyed at his carefully prepared speeches being foiled at every turn, frowned slightly and turned away from them to face the bed. He raised his arms in front of him and indicated for Jool and Chiana to take a corner of the blanket each. They obliged; when they were in position, he swooped his arms up and they lifted the blanket up and over to reveal whatever was underneath.

It appeared to be a mummy. Or, at the very least, something resembling one - a body wrapped from head to toe in silver-y hued bandages. The mummy sat up, very slowly, swung its legs off the bed, and finally managed to stand up. As it moved, the bandages reflected the light and shone in all the colours of the spectrum, creating a very bizarre rainbow effect.

Jool and Chiana looked expectant, waiting for their next command, while D'Argo stood in a dark corner watching the whole process with a disdainful expression on his face. John and Aeryn were watching with equal curiosity, for very different reasons. When Crais was satisfied that the mummy was stable on its feet, he nodded, and Jool and Chiana practically leapt on it, completely obscuring what lay beneath the bandages.

Pieces of the silver fabric flew in all directions as they ripped, hacked, and tore at the coverings, gleefully. There were brief flashes of beige, brown, gold, and tan as they worked. When they were finally done, they stood dramatically still and then parted to reveal what lay beneath.

Crais laughed joyfully. D'Argo actually smiled, for the briefest of microts, before scowling again, and Jool and Chiana looked mightily pleased by their efforts. John and Aeryn were completely, utterly, flabbergasted.

Just when he thought things couldn't get any stranger, they did. Crais' creation, now unveiled and standing there in all its glory, was something nobody could have anticipated…

__

You know the drill. More reviews gets you Chapter 6 =) Oh, and keep guessing who's who!!


	6. Chapter Six

**_ADDITIONAL A/N_**_:  Once again, sorry for the delay.  Let's see how all your guessing paid off.  And… okay, like I said last chapter (having forgotten the song order :D) I'm not even going to attempt to put in "The Charles Atlas Song" because it's entirely too disturbing, but I'll try and put in "The Sword of Damocles".  Be warned, it might be slightly odd.  *realises the fic is already slightly odd.  shrugs*  Ah, frell.  Just to make up for the last chapter being so short, and for the huge delay, I'll try and make this one longer.  Here goes nothing…___

CHAPTER SIX 

"Oh, my!" said Crais, joyfully, grinning an incredibly large and non-Crais-esque grin.  His creation looked around the room, confused and disorientated, attempting to fathom where he was and what had happened.  John wasn't sure whether to burst out laughing or cry, and Aeryn merely stared, hoping with every ounce of her being that the whole thing really _was_ some hideous illusion.

The creation, if that's what he could be called now that recognition had dawned around him, was clad in his usual attire, but it was now much cleaner.  He shone in shades of cream, beige, brown, and tan, and adorning his befuddled face was a gold half-mask, recently buffed to a shimmering finish.  After a delay of approximately two microts, John and Aeryn collectively shouted:

"Stark??"

They were equally surprised, but for very different reasons.  The Banik, apparently very jumpy, leapt a dench or two in the air, backed towards the bed, then fell over it, landing with an audible crunch on the other side.  [A/N:  Sorry.  Baaaad pun…]  Crais immediately rushed over to help, but before he could do anything, Stark leapt to his feet and clambered up onto one of the tables, up and away from his audience.  By this point, Jool and Chiana had sauntered back over to D'Argo and were watching the whole scene play out with interest.

John moved himself and Aeryn one step closer to the door.

Then, Stark began to waffle even less coherently than usual…

"I can sense D'Argo's Qualta Blade… hanging over my head…  He's going to let it drop on me!  Oh, poor me, poor me…  Life is so mysterious, can't you see?  It's going to be a bad day… bad day…"  John chose this rather inopportune moment to start giggling again.  Meanwhile, Crais was trying to tempt Stark down from the table, only to have him leap to another one whenever he approached.  His rambling continued as he glanced at the bed:  "I fell off that bed…  I was having a lovely dream, too.  Now… bad feeling, bad feeling…"  He apparently seemed to notice his garments were suddenly cleaner.  "I'm all clean?  But I have nowhere to go."

By now, Stark was cornered, and Crais was rounding on him like some sort of predator.  D'Argo snarled, looking like he was about to intervene, but settling on saying: "He's committed no crime, Crais.  Leave him alone."

Crais turned and glared, then offered Stark a hand and led him into the middle of the room.  "Now, Stark, that is _no_ way to behave."  Stark pouted.  "But… since you cleaned up so well, I might considering forgiving you."  Stark smiled, as did Crais, who then spun around dramatically and gestured for everyone to move towards him.  D'Argo, Jool and Chiana did so, somewhat grudgingly, and John and Aeryn exchanged a glance before taking a single step, in synchrony.  "Oh, I just love it when things go right!"

D'Argo forced a smile.  "He's a credit to your genius, Crais."  It wasn't a convincing laudation, but the ex-captain seemed to believe him, nodding.

"A triumph," added Jool, and Crais nodded again.

"I guess he's okay," admitted Chiana, shrugging.  Crais got through about half of another nod before he realised what she'd said.

"Okay?"  Chiana gulped.  "OKAY?!"  She hid behind D'Argo, and Crais, now irritated, pointedly ignored her.  "Is that the best you can do, Nebari?"  There was a muffled "I dunno" from behind the Luxan.  "John and Aeryn.  Tell me what you think."

John nudged Aeryn to indicate she should go first, semi-consciously thinking that she should.  She put this down to the fact that he was, basically, a coward.  After fixing her ex-captain with a suitably withering stare, she said:  "It's Stark.  And he's clean.  What am I supposed to think?"

John snorted rather ungraciously, then regained control of himself.  He was getting too caught up in the whole thing, and kept expecting Aeryn to know what to say, being pleasantly surprised whenever she came out with something normal.  "Yeah, Crais.  What happened, did you suddenly feel the need to make him presentable?  Does he have a hot date with someone?  What?"

Crais gave up fishing for compliments and decided to explain himself instead.  "Well, obviously I can't impress you with the sight alone, so I'll explain the scientific process behind it; perhaps that will convince you."  A dramatic pause.  "I've been running some DNA tests… experiments, really.  I installed in his brain DNA from another species to see what might happen.  Clearly there have been no lasting negative effects of this."

"And he agreed to this willingly?" asked Aeryn.

"Oh, yes.  Perfectly."  Stark nodded vigorously to prove it.

"So where'd the DNA come from?" asked John, genuinely curious by this point.

"Another member of this crew, but that's not important.  What I have discovered, in the brief time Stark has been awake, is that the experiment did have some interesting results.  He appears to now have the mental traits of both his own and the other's species.  He is still, unfortunately, neurotic and fawning, however, if he wants something, he will take it.  If he is hungry, he will eat, and obtain the food however he can."

"Sounds like a Hynerian…" muttered Aeryn, absently.  Then, yet another sickening realisation dawned on them both.  Rygel was the only person they hadn't seen around the ship, apart from Pilot (but that was more or less normal.)  As one, they said:

"Where's Rygel…?"

**_A/N:  _**_Ha!!  Cliffhanger!!  Don't worry, Chapter 7 is on it's way.  Seriously this time, I'm just about to type it!!  Anyway, review, if you would be so kind.  Chapter 8 is going to be the token shippy scene, to give you something else to look forward to.  I have some of it written, but it's in need of serious tweaking.  For now, enjoy what there is!_


	7. Chapter Seven

**_ADDITIONAL A/N:_**_  Told ya it'd be here a lot sooner.  Not as soon as I thought since I had a break to watch "Frasier", but… anyway.  Enjoy!  I tried really hard with "Hot Patootie", but it just wasn't playing…  If y'all want to imagine it being done, that's up to you.  Anyway, let's see where Rygel was…_

**CHAPTER SEVEN**

The location of the elusive Hynerian was, at that moment, revealed, as his Throne Sled hovered through the door.  He did not look impressed.  However, he didn't have much time to reveal why, since he was immediately enveloped in the blur of grey that was Chiana when she hurled herself at someone.

"Rygeeeee!!" she screamed, launching herself in his direction.  Rygel vanished again, save for the slight whirring of his Sled.  When he finally managed to struggle free, John caught a glimpse of his clothing for the first time.  He was wearing… a biker jacket?  John blinked.  Yes.  A biker jacket, fashioned in his size.  There were also two pieces of metal attached to the front of his chair, which frighteningly resembled a pair of handlebars…

This, all of sudden, seemed the most normal thing in the world, and he realised he'd actually been expecting it as soon as Rygel appeared in the doorway of the Apothecary.  He wasn't even remotely worried by this fact any more.  Before Rygel could start talking the same sort of gibberish as everyone else, Crichton clamped a hand over his mouth.

"Yeah, yeah, we know.  Saturday night, cosmic light, hot patootie, yada yada yada…"  He could sense Aeryn's "human-nonsense" look boring into him and chose to ignore it, instead looking over to Chiana, dubiously.  "Chi, I swear.  If you tell me you've been having sex with Rygel, I _will_ throw up.  Nobody should be seriously _that_ happy to see Buckwheat…"  He fought back an apparently terrifying image, then let Rygel go.  Chiana giggled, but said nothing that might suggest his suspicions were right.

It was Crais' turn to look unimpressed.  Aeryn's suspicions that he'd used Rygel's DNA were now confirmed, if the small patch above his left eye was any indication.  Rygel also had that look on his face which suggested he'd been medically violated, the same look he'd adopt whenever Zhaan helped him without his consent.  Crais glared pointedly at Rygel.

"What are you doing here, Hynerian?"

"After you violated me, you mean?  Confining me to my quarters wasn't going to stop me from escaping, Peacekeeper."

Crais frowned.  "But… the doors-"

"Secured, I know.  Pilot happens to be on my side.  He let me out."

Crais sneered, stood perfectly still for about two microts, and then took action.  He ran at Rygel, shoving Chiana violently out of the way as he did so.  Rygel's eyes went wide with terror and he manoeuvred his Sled up as fast as it would move.  Unfortunately, he didn't move fast enough, and Crais managed to grasp the bottom of the Throne Sled, stopping it mid-ascent.  The two struggled momentarily before Rygel managed to break free.

He zipped across the Apothecary and did a sharp turn just before he crashed into a wall, then revved up before zooming to the other wall.  He narrowly missed John and Aeryn's heads as they ducked to avoid him, and he skimmed past Crais, literally a hair's breadth from his ears.  Crais dropped to the ground as Rygel came at him a second time, and looked for a weapon, his eyes skimming the floor to see if anything was in reaching or scuttling distance.

He spotted it.  A large, flattish object that resembled an Earth cricket bat, which Crais, obviously, didn't know.  However, what he _did _know, was that it was absolutely the perfect thing to attack Rygel with…  Getting up, cautiously, Crais scanned the room for the Hynerian, and eventually found him, up near Moya's ceiling in a far corner, preparing to dive bomb the room.  As expected, he did just that.

What happened next seemed to occur in slow motion, but, in reality, only took about a microt.  Rygel growled and let out something resembling a war-cry, revved the Throne Sled to the highest power it would handle, and drove it forwards.  He got within about half a metra of Crais when disaster (and, in fact, Crais) struck.  The Sebacean swung the bat around as hard as he could and sent Rygel flying into a wall, while the Throne Sled completed its tangent, slipped neatly between John and Aeryn (who leapt apart to accommodate its flight), and collided neatly with the wall of the corridor.

There was silence.  Crais dropped the bat, flipped his hair out of his face, and looked nonchalant.  Meanwhile, an irate Chiana was now trying to rouse a heavily and very unconscious Rygel.  She glared up at Crais, but couldn't form anything coherent to say to him.

"Oh, for goodness' sake, Chiana," he chided.  "He'll recover."  With that, he smiled at Stark and coaxed him out of the protective ball he'd curled himself into, leading him back into the centre of the room.  "Don't worry, Stark.  Rygel isn't going to hurt you."

Silence then descended on the room.  John felt suddenly very unnerved…

**_A/N:  _**_End of Chapter 7!  Once I get Chapter 8 translated into English, it'll be here, but right now it makes very little sense.  Anyway.  Lotsa reviews gets it here faster (in theory…)  And even though it's exceedingly obvious now, you still have to guess who got cast as Dr. Scott…_


	8. Chapter Eight

**__**

ADDITIONAL A/N: Okay, so anyone who knows this movie as 'intimately' as I do, knows that the next scene would be the 'silhouette' scene. Actually, when I first conceived this idea, this was going to be the part I had the most fun with… but now, being a complete coward, I'm backing out. My theory is, John knows this movie rather well, too, and is not going to be too thrilled if Crais N Furter *grin* tries to 'recreate' that particular scene (pardon my awful punning.) So, he's going to try his damnedest to stop it happening… and that means it's time for the compulsory shippy/angsty scene. Random, I know, but I have to write something shippy before I explode. Therefore, my 'unconventional conventionists', enjoy!

PS: For anyone who doesn't like the angst/shippiness of this, I've sectioned it between two of these: "~*~" so it's more easily avoidable…

****

CHAPTER EIGHT

The fiasco in Crais' 'lab' appeared to be at an end. Stark was wandering aimlessly around the Apothecary, wordlessly exploring and apparently still in awe of his surroundings. Rygel lay unconscious near the far wall, with an irate Chiana hovering over him and occasionally shooting dagger looks at the room in general. Jool and D'Argo were standing by the empty bed, deep in hushed conversation. The last of them, Crais, was watching his new 'creation' with wonder. Suddenly, he snapped out of it.

"D'Argo?" he asked, abruptly. The Luxan looked briefly annoyed, shared a look with Jool, then forced a helpful expression onto his face.

"Yes?"

"Please, escort these two to their rooms."

In the amount of time it took for D'Argo to amble over to them, John ran a series of pictures through his head, occasionally glancing between Crais and Aeryn. He cringed, and then grabbed Aeryn by the hand. He began to back away slowly.

"Y'know, Crais, I think we can find our own way…"

With that, he quickly turned and ran, dragging a very bewildered Aeryn after him. Crais cursed briefly, scaring Stark, and then went over to comfort him. D'Argo ignored his order now it was no longer relevant, and walked back over to Jool. They both threw a disdainful glance at Crais' back…

~*~

A few tiers away, John and Aeryn rounded corner after corner, before finally reaching his quarters. He opened the door, checking in both directions constantly, and gestured for her to enter ahead of him. She didn't move.

"Aeryn, just get in there."

"No."

"No?!"

"Not until you tell me what's going on, and why it's so important we don't get separated."

"I'll explain inside," he said, becoming frustrated and persevering nonetheless.

"John…" She was getting irritated. It wasn't a good sign. Then, there was an even worse sign, as a muffled "Find them…" echoed around the corridor, and the unmistakable sound of D'Argo's footsteps approached. He shoved Aeryn into the room, closed the door, and secured it. She opened her mouth to speak, but he silenced her with a gesture of his hand and put his ear to the door. When he was certain the footsteps were passed, he visibly relaxed, and walked past her to sit on the bed.

"Right," she said. "Now do I get some information?"

"I really don't think you'd believe me," he said, truthfully. "Just trust me on this, you do not want to know the outcome if we have separate rooms tonight."

She seemed to concede defeat. "Well, your intuition seems to have been correct so far." She sat on a chair opposite him. "And you're about the only sane one here… even though I doubt that most of the time."

John grinned. "Okay, we do not open that door, no matter who wants in. Got that?" She nodded. "Good. It's gonna be a loooong night."

"You're not saying we stay awake?"

"Yeah, at least until it's safe. Halfway through the sleep cycle oughta do it, they'll have given up by then."

Aeryn blinked incredulously. "And what are we supposed to do until then?" The look on her face that indicated he would probably get slapped stopped John from saying what he was going to say. Instead, he offered:

"Concentrate on not falling asleep." After a pause, he added, cautiously. "Plus, uh… there's stuff we have to discuss. Our conversation in the Prowler never finished, you know."

Aeryn sighed and examined the suddenly very interesting floor. "I was hoping you'd forgotten about that."

"Sorry, no can do." There was silence. After thinking carefully, now similarly looking down to examine his hands, John said. "I meant it, you know. What I asked."

They both looked up, simultaneously.

"I know… but I still can't answer."

"Can I assume that's a 'no'?"

"No… it's… I don't know what it is."

He watched as she got up and moved to Moya's oval window, staring out with her back to the room. The longer tail of Talyn was just visible, a little further ahead near the front of his mother.

John had learnt to read the signs, and knew something was bothering her. The fact that she hadn't accepted wasn't too unexpected; it was that she hadn't entirely refused either. She was undecided, and that worried him.

Moving slowly, he rose from the bed, walked over to stand near her, and placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Aeryn…" She turned slightly in his direction. A microt later, they were in each other's arms, and that was when he knew something was definitely wrong. "C'mon. Talk to me. If you make me understand, I can try to help."

He felt rather than saw her nod. "All right," she said, a little choked. "I'll tell you." She extricated herself from John's arms and stood back slightly, looking at him, ascertaining how to go about the task ahead. "Where do you want to start?"

"Let's start by sitting down…"

She nodded again, and they both walked back to the middle of the room, sitting side by side on the end of the bed. Aeryn began to examine her hands again.

"John… I've been thinking a lot about what you're asking. I had a feeling you might soon, and I was almost hoping you wouldn't." He allowed her to continue and explain herself. Aeryn realised she'd started on the wrong foot entirely and backed up a little, attempting to sort it out for herself at the same time. "It's not that I'm not happy… Being with you, this… us… nothing's ever felt so right in my life before. It's perfect. Sometimes it seems _too_ perfect. I keep waiting for something to go wrong… and that's why I knew, at some point, you were bound to ask me to marry you, and… and right up until the moment you did, until the moment those stupid natives decided to make us engaged, I probably would have said 'yes'…"

John couldn't help feeling slightly better, even though he could sense there was a huge 'but' coming. When she didn't carry on, he said, "And now…?"

"Now… now, it's different. Now I've had time to really think about what it all means. Time to think about how much I frelling need you." She stopped. "I've never needed anyone before, never; not even the Peacekeepers… not like I need you. It scares me, John, it makes me feel weak. I'm not supposed to feel weak, I'm meant to be the strong one… and if I marry you, I feel like it's just another bond to you, and I'll end up needing you even more…" She trailed off, uncertain if he understood.

John lifted the hand nearest to her and stroked her hair comfortingly. "Aeryn… need isn't a weakness. If anything, it makes you stronger."

"I don't see how."

"Okay, uh…" He thought about it. "Okay, if it makes you feel any better, I probably need you a heck of a lot more than you need me. I need you to be there for me, to save my life, even kick my ass sometimes… you are what keeps me going out here. Needing you is what keeps me strong."

"I think I understand," she admitted.

"But it still scares you?" Relieved that he understood, she nodded.

"I know it's important to you. I just can't see why."

"I don't think I can explain it," he said. "Maybe it's just and Earth thing… or maybe it's a me thing, I dunno."

"It's probably a you thing."

He smiled. "I guess so." He knew that she wanted something in the way of explanation, but he wasn't sure if he could provide one. He thought carefully, and then decided it might be easier just to go with it and see where he ended up. "I don't know why it's so important to me, either. I've never really thought about it that much. All I do know for certain is what I've always known, right from the start – you were the only one I was meant to be with. I know you're not used to this, Aeryn, and I try so hard not to push you… but I love you so much it hurts sometimes… and I know it's selfish, but I want more. It's completely crazy out here; you keep me sane, and all I want is to lead a normal life. With you."

He got up, then, unsure of the outcome of his confession. Aeryn stayed silent for a while as she processed the information, and spoke slowly, remaining where she was. "When you said I could be more, I didn't believe you. Now… look, you were right. You gave _me_ that much more – friendship, laughter… love. I feel… obligated, somehow, to return that and give you 'more'… but I don't know if I can." All of her carefully formed plans about not being over-emotional failed her; her voice began to crack. "As Peacekeepers, we are born into service; we are trained to be soldiers, by soldiers. We know nothing of childhood or parents, you know that. We're not trained to deal with love, or family, or any of it. I don't know how to do this, John. I want to, I really do, but I can't."

John moved to crouch in front of her, so they were at approximately the same level. Noticing the trail of tears, he pulled her into an embrace, rocking slightly.

"Oh, God, I'm so sorry. I didn't realise…" Neither of them said anything after that, just remained in the same position for several minutes. It was John who eventually broke the silence again. "Well… today's certainly been a riot, hasn't it?"

He felt her smile as they released each other. "Please tell me it doesn't get any stranger."

"Sorry, I'd be lying if I did." He added, "but we're already halfway through this, if it helps."

Aeryn yawned, absently. "That reminds me. I think it's already way beyond halfway through the sleep cycle."

"Yeah. How's about we forget this ever happened?"

"Sounds like a good idea."

~*~

Having ascertained that the coast was thoroughly clear, John soon relaxed, but made sure to keep the door secured, just in case. He was now lying in the dark with Aeryn asleep in his arms, staring at the ceiling. He remembered their conversation, beginning to wish he'd never asked her the Question, and was still cursing himself for doing so.

In an attempt to distract himself, he turned to more productive thoughts – how to stop Crais (or at least, get him off Moya) for one, and how to stay at least one step ahead of him. He hoped they'd all come out of this unscathed physically, if not mentally.

Just as he was drifting off to sleep again, he heard someone trying to get in – the unmistakable sound of one of the controls being palmed, unsuccessfully. He ignored it. Then, the knocking started and he grunted. Briefly, it stopped, then began again, louder. This time, it woke Aeryn up as well, and that was the last straw.

"What-?"

"Doesn't matter, I got it." He got up and wandered over, opening the door partway to see the one thing he'd been dreading.

Crais was standing in the corridor outside, wearing a fixed smile. "Ah. Crichton."

"What do you want? Do you know what time it is?"

"Yes. My apologies." It was then that John noticed the rather desperate look Crais was failing to conceal on his face. The last thing he needed was a rampant captain with his libido through the roof hanging around outside his quarters. John tried to stop grinning and failed horribly.

"Anything I can… uh… do for you?"

"Is… is Officer Sun in there?"

"Yes."

"Oh, good, could I-"

"Nope."

"Oh. I don't suppose you-"

"No!"

With that, he shut the door very hastily and secured it again, then burst out laughing. As he meandered back over to Aeryn, she asked:

"What was all that about?"

"Nothing…"

**__**

A/N: There ya go, I sorta did something resembling a silhouette scene without the silhouettes at the end there… Anyway. You know the drill. Reviews, in theory, get you chapter 9. At least, they will when I've figured out how that'll work… And keep guessing who Dr. Scott's gonna be =)


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